I’m going to ask
you for a little help here. Indeed, this review isn’t going to be an easy
one that you can just read and forget about and then go on about your merry
way. Oh no. I’m going to ask you to work on this one. So here goes. I am
often asked by slightly incredulous people exactly why I drink all
the weird beers that I do. “Just what is it about them that makes them so
special?” one person might ask me. “Beer is beer, is it not?” proposes
another. “Hey there are things swimming in your beer,” offers still another,
who after a moment’s reflection then adds, “Why do you pay so much for that
stuff, and why the hell do you drink it in the first place?”
Well here goes. The first question to address is the easiest, and that’s the
money issue. While some may be appalled at the notion of paying $8, $9, $10
or more for a six-pack of beer, it should be considered that these are
sipping beers meant to be savored and enjoyed. Indeed, those who would not
bat an eyelash at paying a similar amount for a twelve pack of Miller, Bud,
or Coors will often consume that entire quantity in the same time or less
than I might drink my “expensive” six-pack.
But here’s the real kicker. Why do I drink the beers I do? I’m going to try
to put it into terms that are easy to understand for those of you who might
not already enjoy craft brews. A common perspective, a shared point of
reference. I got this idea the other day when making myself a salad. What’s
a salad got to do with beer, you say? Why tomatoes, of course. And here’s
where the work on your part comes in. I want you to go to the supermarket,
and buy one of those genetically engineered, half-ripened, hard as rock
tomatoes. You know the ones I’m talking about.
Ok, now I want you to drive down the street to the little vegetable stand on
the corner. The one with the kindly old gentleman standing behind it dressed
smartly in a cardigan sweater and corduroys, and wearing an old-fashioned
tan hat on his head. Precisely the kind of place from which I buy my
super-ripe, soft, and delicious tomatoes.
Now take a bite of the supermarket tomato. It’s tough, dull, and fairly
flavorless. OK if you consume it cold enough, I guess, just like your
mainstream bland beer. But not giving you much in the flavor department. And
isn’t that why God gave us tastebuds? To appreciate the flavor of life?
Now take a bite of that locally grown tomato. It’s soft and sweet, bursting
with flavor. Its even better when slightly warm, you can really appreciate
its flavor dancing across your tongue. A bite of life, if you will. Just
like a delicious craft brewed beer. If that tomato were a beer, it might be
Otter Creek Mud Bock Spring Ale, a beer that is as bursting with
flavor as a freshly picked tomato.
Otter Creek Mud Bock Ale is not a bock, not in the traditional sense
of the word. That is because today bocks are lagers, and this beer is an
ale. Originally, however, bocks were ales, and Otter Creek’s brewer once
told me that this beer is intended to be in the style of early top-fermented
bocks. This used to be a spring seasonal from Otter Creek, but now is only
offered occasionally as part of their "World Tour" series. It will be
released in early 2009 in 22 ounce bottles and on draft.
Otter Creek Mud Bock Ale pours to a deep dark brown color with a
generous head formation and a nutty sweet malt nose. Its rich and chewy like
a bock, wonderfully malty, caramelly, with a hint of chocolate and that
distinctive nutty Otter Creek maltiness. The finish is balanced, perhaps
slightly sweet. Alcohol is slightly bockish at 5.7% by volume, bitterness 31
IBUs struggling against a lot of sweet malt.
Dare I suggest it with a garden tomato?
And remember, try a new beer today, and drink outside the box.
*Pricing data accurate at time of review or latest update. For
reference only, based on actual price paid by reviewer.
(B)=Bottled
(D)=Draft